The Witch Hunt
by John Dusk
Summary: Back in times of old, people feared the unknown and sought to eradicate any and all who possessed this power. Now,the modern age, there are still remnants that call themselves the "True Believers" of the Lord. They have found their new target and it is up to Benjamin Tennyson to protect her from the fires of Hell.


AN: Good evening, my Dusk-kin and welcome to my next project. I hope you are all ready for some more action, adventure, romance, drama and whatever else I can chuck into this story. Our pick this time is Ben 10. I hope you all look forward to this next project. Sit back and enjoy the first chapter of "The Witch Hunt".

Disclaimer: I own nothing from the Ben 10 universe, just my lowly creations.

Chapter 1: The Right Arms

New York, Times Square, always full of people, not surprising to hold the title "The city that never sleeps". Though it was a lot quieter than usual due to it being midnight, clubs still partied, blasting their muffled music to annoy its surrounding inhabitants. There were other sounds that echoed through the night, though that consisted of a store alarm, police sirens, loud motors and ear-piercing gunshots.

Speeding down the streets was a black car being chased by a police car, firing rounds back and forth. The robbers fired their machine gun bullets at the cops while they shot their handgun, or at least one of them since there was only two. The officer that was shooting ducked back into the car, "For god's sake, where the heck is our backup. Any longer we have to wait and these pricks are going to get away".

"Well, as you can see, I haven't been able to call in because we had to chase after them straight away before I could call in for backup", his partner argued. They ducked under the bullet barrage that broke their front window. Shards of glass scattered everywhere, covering the car and cops in it. Even though their defence dwindled, they took advantage of their new area to fire. "If this continues, we're not going to see the next day", he said.

"At least none of us are days or weeks from retirement, brother", the driver said. "Funny, I'll try to remember that in the afterlife", his partner answered. More bullets shot through the opening, causing the two men to duck for cover. "Quit shooting for a bit and radio in for backup before they finally hit us", the driver said. The partner grabbed the radio, "Emergency, calling for backup. Shots fired, robbery in progress, now in pursuit of suspects past Time's Square, any units in the vicinity".

The radio crackled, "Affirmative, two units are patrolling further down and are able to form a roadblock before you arrive". "10-4, over and out", he put the radio back. "Our partners are further ahead, there will be a roadblock by the time we arrive", he informed his partner. "Alright, we just have to make sure they continue along this road", the driver floored the accelerator, picking up more speed.

As they gained on their robbers, a barrage of bullets fired, further chipping away their defence. "Jesus Christ, these dudes are persistent, they just keep coming", the robber shooting said. "They wouldn't call them New York's finest if they were just pansies now, would they", the second robber said. "Will you two be quiet, and will someone off these pigs now before we get caught", the third robber said, flooring the pedal as much as he can.

"We do have that left over that we decided not to use", the second robber said, indicating the duffel bag they had carried their weapons in. A moment of thought as they contemplated on whether to use whatever left over they had kept stored. Ultimately, there was no other choice if they wanted to escape the cops, "Use it". The robber unzipped the bag and ruffled through, searching for it. He found it, a left over hand grenade that they decided not to use in case of an emergency.

"I still don't think it's a good idea. That'll probably cause us more trouble than it's worth", the first robber said. "It's either this or the slammer and I'm not looking for my second strike. Throw it", the driver argued and ordered the gunner to toss the grenade. He pulled out the pin, arming the mechanism. Waiting for a couple of seconds, he chucked the grenade towards the policemen. They saw it and tried to swerve away, but failed as the explosive detonated on the right-side of their hood.

The impact caused the car to fly into the air, looping to one side. Half way through the loop, it further exploded from the fuel finally igniting. It landed flat on its back, crashing into the nearest lamp-post. Smoke and flames engulfed the vehicle, along with the two deceased policemen that sat there. The robber returned to his seat, winding up the window. "See, no harm done", the driver said, earning him a glare from his partner.

Up ahead, they saw the faint lights of red and blue, indicating a blockade of some sort. "Shoot, looks like they were ready for us", the driver said, annoyed. The robber in the back looked around then found something, "Hey man, 10 o'clock, alleyway". They all turned to look at the little path through the buildings, "Well, better than driving toward the wall of cops". He turned the wheel, bringing the car into the pathway.

Short and narrow, their car barely accommodated the small space. But it did and when the group of baddies reached the other side, they entered quiet street. Turning left, they made their way down the street, slowly driving away from the sound of sirens. "Yes, we did it, we freaking did it", the driver cheered. The robber in the back followed suite, cheering along. The man next to the driver sat quiet.

"Hey mate, what's the matter, we're home free", the driver said. He just stayed quiet, "Whatever man, we're nearly at the rendezvous' point". They drove around for a few minutes, getting their bearings, until they found their destination, a small, abandoned church in the back alley of New York, surrounded by empty houses and litter. No one has lived in this section for some odd years now, making it the perfect area for illegal activity.

The group of three exited the car and proceeded into the church. As they pushed the large wooden doors open, the sound echoed throughout the building, rebounding of every wall. Dust and cobwebs accommodated the place, rows of pews and an altar stood in front of them. The most unusual aspect of the place was the large stained glass window, bit its depiction could not be identified. The group walked deeper into the building.

The driver dropped the bag on one of the pews, "All right then, where is this guy you told us about", he asked. "I want to get this deal done with as soon as possible before the cops find us", he looked around for any sign of life. The gunner shrugged, "Beats me, I didn't see any sign of anyone being here when we arrived". "Yeah, me neither. How about you, rookie", the driver asked. The rookie didn't answer, he wore a pondering expression.

"Hey, kid, I'm talking to you", the driver spoke loud, still not receiving an answer. He finally had enough, "You deaf or something, when someone asks you a question, you better answer the goddamn question". He walked over to the man, grabbed his collar and held him close to his face, "What the hell is your problem". The rookie looked the driver square in the eyes, "You want to know what my problem is". The driver glared angrily at the man, urging him to continue. "My problem is the fact that you murdered those two police officers without any reason".

"Give me a break, if we hadn't of done that, we wouldn't be here now. Besides, it wasn't me who did it, it was him", he said, nodding in the gunners direction. "He may have done it, but it was by your orders, therefore your mistake", the rookie argued. The driver shoved the rookie away from him, "Oh, it's my fault for giving the order, then maybe I should have just let them catch us and get locked up in the slammer".

"Grow up, this isn't the army. This is the real world and out in the real world there is only one thing you have to look out for, and that's yourself", the driver said. "Will you two knock it off, what happened has already happened, there's no point dwelling over the past", the gunner interjected, lighting a smoke. "Oh sure, just dust it off like yesterdays business. You're used to it, but I still have a conscious", the rookie said.

The gunner shrugged, accepting the bland and rude statement. "He may not have a conscious, but he does have a brain and it told him to protect himself", the driver said. "That does not give him the right to murder", the rookie continued to argue. "Look, we can continue to argue about it like school children, but it has already happened, so let the past be the past", the driver said. The rookie thought about saying more things, but decided against it, knowing it wasn't going to help.

"All right then, how much longer until your contact arrives", the driver asked the gunner. "Beats me, if he's not here now, who knows when he's going to show up", the gunner answered. "The question now is whether he's even going to show up", the driver said. "Right now, we have a lot of heat on our asses and I would rather not be charged with murder and robbery", he continued to rant. "Then we just make sure we aren't caught. You saw what we did, we evaded them, they don't know where we've disappeared to and they never will", the gunner said.

"What if they do, then what, we just throw down our weapons and please ask them to send us to the slammer", the driver said. "Relax, brother, we will deal with it as it comes. Right now, let's just sit back and wait for the customer", the gunner said, lying on a pew. The driver continued to pace back and forth, growing evermore impatient. Time flew by, still no arrival, so they waited more. The feeling of minutes and hours flew by and there was still no one.

The driver continued pacing back and forth, the gunner snoozing on the pew and the rookie sitting quietly on the altars steps. Few minutes more and the driver had finally had enough, "I can't wait anymore. This is taking too long". He walked over to the gunner and kicked the pew, waking him. "How much longer do you expect me to wait, I have better things to do then wait around for some pesky buyer that's not going to show", the driver started to walk towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going", the gunner asked. "Anywhere but here, we don't know if the cops are on their way or not and I for one don't want to find out. You want to stay, fine, but I am leaving", the driver grabbed the handle, but never did open the door for he heard a sound, a prayer from up above. From above, out came an old man in his fifties, wearing a priest cloth and bearing a holy cross around his neck. He spoke in Latin, praying:-

"_Confiteor Deo Omnipotenti, _

_istis Sanctis et omnibus Sanctis." _

Down the stairs he came, hands clenched together in prayer, eyes forward but his mind was elsewhere. All three men stared at the priest, no thought or sound came from them. From where did this man appear and why now has he chosen to come forth. They all continued to stare as the man slowly made his way on to the red carpet and walked toward the altar:-

"_et tibi frater, _

_quia peccavi in congitatione."_

Ever so slowly he made his way towards the altar, continuing the prayer. The driver came to his senses and attempted to talk with the priest. "Hey, where the heck did you come from", he asked. The man paid no attention and continued walking toward the altar. "Hey, you death or something, old man, I asked you a question", the driver said, aggravated. He was going to grab the priest, but the gunner stopped him:-

" _in locutione, in opere,_

_in pollutione mentis et corporis."_

"What in the world do you think you're doing ", the driver asked the gunner. "Quiet, can't you see the old man is praying. The least you can do is show some respect", the gunner said. "Respect, you expect me to show respect to some old creep that appeared out of nowhere and started chanting hymn's", the driver said. The gunner kept quiet, not bothering to answer his comrade. The driver pushed past and made his way to the priest.

The priest stopped at the base of the steps and stared at the man sitting on them, the rookie. The rookie was at a loss for words, unable to think or form sentences. The priest continued to stare at the rookie, judging him, reading his inner thoughts. The rookie then noticed he was in the way of the priest and quickly rose and moved aside. One last glance at the rookie and the priest continued to the altar, ending his prayer:-

_Ideo precor te, ora pro me."_

The room was silent as everyone stared at the priest and the priest at them. All except for one as the driver made his way to the front of the altar, "All right, enough of this silly crap, who the hell are you, where did you come from and why are you here". The driver listed questions he wanted the priest to answer. The priest remained silent for a while, then he opened wide his arms, like an eagle taking flight.

"I am nothing but a servant to the Almighty One, I come from wherever He chooses me to go and I am here to spread of the word of faith", the priest answered. The driver smacked his forehead, clearly annoyed, "Not good enough, buddy. I need more information, like your name". "What is a name but the title that a person was given and to what need must we have one", he answered the driver.

"You are really starting to get on my nerves, buddy. You give me a name now or I'll whack you so hard, you'll be seeing the Lord soon enough", the driver demanded, edging closer and closer to the holy man. He just looked at the aggravated man, "If you must refer to me as someone, you may call me Father Jeremiah ". The driver was less annoyed, "Much better. Now please tell me, Father, why are you here".

"I live here, my son. You seem to have caught me during my prayers, so I must apologise for not greeting you properly. I must ask, why are you here", he asked. "We're just passing travellers just stopping for the night", the driver lied. "I see. If I may ask, where are you heading", the priest asked. "Nowhere special, just out of the city, might try Las Vegas", the driver answered. The priest stared at the driver, the feeling of his eyes burrowing in to the man's very soul.

"Forgive me for saying this, but I have a good feeling you are not telling the truth", he said. The driver frowned, not completely surprised, "So what if I am, old man, seems to me that I am not at obligation to tell you my plan". The priest sighed, "This generation, always full of brash young men who would not think before properly planning". "If you have something to say, then say it before I rip you a new one", the driver threatened.

The priest shot a glare at the man, "Do not test me, boy, you do not understand know to whom you are speaking to". "Oh, I have a pretty good idea, you're just some old man whom is so in touch with his new life, he's become nothing but senile and ignorant", the driver mocked. What happened next would definitely give a new perspective on judging a book by its cover. The priest disappeared from sight, only to reappear and palm strike the driver, sending him flying in to the pews.

The gunner, rookie, even the driver were so shocked that it took them a while to react. The driver was about to pull out his hidden gun when he couldn't find it. "You do not it is sinful to bring items of destruction in to a holy building", the old man held the newly found gun before disarming it. The gunner aimed his gun, but didn't fire, "If you dare to aim that gun at me, you better be ready to follow through".

"I wasn't intending to kill, just looking out for myself", the gunner answered. "The hell is wrong with you, get him", the driver shouted. "Yeah, then get my butt whipped and thrown through the seats, I don't think so", the gunner said, lowering his gun. The driver waited, yet nobody would help him. He glanced at the rookie, but he was still in shock. The priest's hand came down, offering help, "It is not too late to repent for your wrong doings".

The driver slapped it away, "You think I'm going to confession after you what you did to me, screw you, old man". Jeremiah retracted the hand then proceeded back to the altar. The driver got up and dusted himself off, "Christ, that smart's". "Who are you really, I've never seen a priest fight like that", the rookie asked as the Jeremiah passed him. "I am but a humble servant of God, no more and no less", he answered.

"Yeah, a humble servant of the Lord that can throw a man through a row of seats", said the driver. "What are you, the Right Hand of God, the one that casts judgement", the driver continued, rubbing away at the bruises he just acquired. "Your fate would have been much worse if God were judging you now", he said. "Now, I would like to hear the truth of your arrival here", he waited for someone to answer. Nobody at first seemed up to the task until the rookie stepped up; kneeling down in front of the podium.

Moving his hands in a cross formation, he spoke to the priest, "Forgive me father for I have sinned". The priest looked at the man, "Tell me of your sins, my child". "The reason we are all here is because we stole from the Museum and are hiding from the police", the rookie admitted. "What in the world are you doing, don't go telling random people about our plans, especially if they are like him", the driver said, still seething from what happened.

The priest shot a glare at the man before returning his gaze to rookie, "Please continue, what else". "After we acquired the goods, we made our escape, though not alone. A pair of policemen chased after us and we had not where else to go, so we-", the rookie stopped. "What did you do", the priest asked. The rookie hid his face, too afraid to admit what they had done. "Do not be afraid, if you are brave enough to admit you have sinned, then God will be able to forgive your sins", Jeremiah reassured.

"Father, I do not think even God can forgive me for what we have done", the rookie said. The priest walked away from his place at the podium and kneeled down in front of the man. "All sins are forgiven, all that He asks is for you to admit to your sins and swear to atone for them", Jeremiah said. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure God can forgive a murderer like him", the driver said. The rookie tensed up at the word, 'murderer'.

The priest looked at the driver, then back at the rookie, "Is this true, my son". The rookie said nothing, his silence answering his question. "Yeah, he's a murderer, just like us. He stood by and let my partner here blow the cops sky-high. You should have seen the fireworks, lovely piece flying through the air", the driver said. "You're the one who asked me to do it, so it's just as much your fault as mine", the gunner said.

"I'm not blaming you and it's certainly my fault for giving the order. I'm just teaching this kid that the world is not going to have his back ever, so he's got to learn to look out for himself", he said. "In this world, you either adapt or perish and what you need to learn is to always watch your back", he finished. The priest looked at the rookie who continued to hide his face, judging him, wondering what kind of person he was.

"Look at me, boy", he said. The rookie hesitated, but showed his face to the priest in the end. The priest looked deep in to his eyes, deep in to the soul of this human being. "You are no murderer, you have no evil intent in you", he said. The rookie felt joy flow through his body, even though it was just one person, he felt as though he was human again. The sound of mocking laughter filled the air, coming from the injured thief, "You really are an idiot, aren't you. He is just as bad as us, if he wanted to earn his money the legal way, he wouldn't have come crawling to us looking for work".

"Did he have a hand in sending the two policemen to their next life", the priest asked. The driver looked at the priest, "What are you talking about, of course he did". "Did he do any action that may have injured the two men", the priest asked. "Nope, it was all me", the gunner admitted. "You stay out of this", the driver snapped. "Now you listen to me, kid. Who looked after you after finding you in an alleyway, with nothing but tattered clothes, an old blanket and a broken box for collecting change", the driver said.

As he continued talking, he walked towards the rookie, slowly approaching the kneeling man. "Who gave you food and fresh water so you wouldn't have to go dumpster diving and sewer drinking, who gave you new clothes so you wouldn't have to shiver during the night, who was there for you when you nearly got caught by the police after the job at the convenient store went south", he said, reaching the rookie.

He kneeled down next to him, "Who do you owe your life to for saving you from a rotten existence", he whispered. "You owe me a lot more than you think and I intend on you paying it back", he said. "Do not listen to him, I know that-", the priest started to cough, one which became heavier after the earlier. It was so bad that Jeremiah had to sit down on the altar steps, too tired to stand anymore. Eventually it came to an end, leaving him gasping for air.

"Are you well Father", the rookie asked. "Do not worry about me, old age is just a sign you're living a good life", Jeremiah answered. "Looks like you might keel over anytime", the driver said. "I must agree, I am quite old, I wouldn't be surprised if the Lord were to beckon for me now", Jeremiah said. "Then you probably wouldn't mind if you joined him now", the driver said, pulling out another gun. The room went more silent than usual, all eyes on the gun wielding man aiming at the old priest.

"You continue to defile this holy place, when will it end", Jeremiah asked. "It'll end once you're dead, so pretty soon I guess", the driver said, cocking the pistol. "By your hand no less, then be quick about it so I will not have to lay my eyes on you again", Jeremiah said. "Oh, you are definitely going to Heaven, but not by my hand, by his", the driver said, handing the gun to the rookie. The rookie stared, shocked before looking at the driver.

"You want me to forgive you, here is you repentance. Send this old fool to the afterlife", the driver ordered. The rookie was still shocked, completely unsure of what to do, "No, no, I'm not doing it". The driver smacked the rookie with the butt of his gun, "Either you do as I say or I leave next to the old man, dead". The driver walked back a bit, letting the rookie rise to his feet. The rookie with his hands shaking aimed the gun at the priests head.

Jeremiah said nothing, closing his eyes, waiting for the end to come. The rookie continued to look at the priest, a mental war of right and wrong happening in his mind. Is killing to live the right thing to do, what man has control over a single person's life. The answer, no man controls a single individual's life. "Go on, do it, let loose your inner demons", the driver said. The rookie closed his eyes, not wanting to see the horror he was about to commit. His finger pulled the trigger, the loud bang from the gun rang in his ears and the gasp of death as the bullet found its mark.

He was afraid to open his eyes, but he would have to sooner or later. He did after a couple of minutes; he also expected to find the old man lying in front of him dead. What he saw was the old man alive, looking off to his right. The rookie stared; the old man was still alive. He followed the man's gaze, to find out what he was staring at. The driver was lying on his back, blood seeping out of the hole in his head. The rookie couldn't understand what had happened, then he noticed his hand outstretched in the driver's direction.

His consciousness had moved his hand the other way, to save the old man. Still, he was not happy with his decision and threw his gun down with disgust. "Oh god, what have I done, I didn't mean for it to happen", he said, shivering and shaking. He fell to his hands and knees, unable to control his body, "I just couldn't kill you, so I-I, I didn't mean to, it wasn't my fault". He continued to cry, unable to accept what he had done. He had just murdered a man in cold blood.

He continued to shake until a hand touched his shoulder. He looked up at the old man, who had recovered and found his way to him. "Do not despair over what you have done, you had no other choice", Jeremiah said. The rookie stared, not comprehending what the old man was saying, "What do you mean, I just took a man's life". "It was a choice in becoming the devil's servant or the guardian angel, you chose the angel", the priest said.

The rookie stared, not fully accepting what the old man was saying. Jeremiah helped him to his feet, "I think you are ready to join us". "Brother, come join us", the priest called to the gunner. The gunner walked over to meet them, "Has he passed the test". "Yes, I believe so", the priest answered. "So, he is one of us now", the gunner asked. Jeremiah nodded, "He was proven himself well".

The rookie was even more confused now, "Okay, could someone explain to me what is happening now". Jeremiah looked at the rookie and smiled, "You, my son, have just passed a test of faith. You have now joined a league of believers, one that protects the testaments of out Holy Father". The gunner slapped the boy on the back, "Welcome to 'The Right Arms', my boy". "The Right Arms", the rookie said, still confused. "Yes, 'The Right Arms', a group of true believers that carries out the will of the Lord. We have been searching for members far and wide and sadly have come short, but you have succeeded in our test".

"But, I just murdered a man, in a church. I don't deserve congratulations, but punishment", the rookie said. "There are a lot of things we must sacrifice to fulfil the will of God, even if we must murder, torture and manipulate to succeed", Jeremiah answered. "It's not easy, but it must done", the gunner said. "Today, you have died; you are no longer the man you once were. You have been reborn anew". The priest said

"Forget the troubles of the past and look forward to the future, as 'The Right Arm' of God", Jeremiah shouted. "Praise be to our Lord and Saviour", the gunner shouted. "Praise be to God", the both shouted in unison. Then, the priest began to cough again, this time more severe. He fell to his knees, coughing uncontrollably. The two men gathered around Jeremiah, the gunner laid his head on his knees.

"My time is over brother, it is your turn to lead the clan", Jeremiah said. "Is it really your time to go", he asked. "I'm afraid so, my time to go to our Lord is now", Jeremiah said. "I am glad you are ready to go", the gunner said. "Richard, please guide the boy. Show him the ways of the clan so that he may take over as leader after you", Jeremiah said. "Of course, I will teach him all that we know", Richard nodded.

Jeremiah smiled and faced the rookie, "Tell me son, what is your name". The rookie kneeled down, "It's Jacob, father", he answered. "You will be a great addition to our league", Jeremiah answered. The sound of sirens filled the air as police had finally found their way here. "The cops are here", Richard said. "Make haste, you can escape through the passage behind the altar", Jeremiah said. Richard nodded and proceeded to open the passage.

Richard climbed down the ladder first, and then Jacob followed, closing the door behind him. "Praise be to our Lord and Saviour", he said through his last breath. The door banged open as squads of policemen stormed the building searching for the robbers. They found the driver's body in its blood pool and they found the priest's body, no longer apart of this world.

AN: And so that ends the first chapter, I hope you all enjoyed it. I will say this chapter does not contain our hero's, but that's because I wanted to focus on the villain for this story in this chapter. Ben, Gwen and Grandpa Max will be in the next chapter, I promise. So, thank you so much for reading, stay tuned for more in this new fanfic and I hope to see you all real soon.

May the night watch over you.


End file.
